


Harebrained

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [248]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: harebrained: adjective: hare·brained: rash, ill-judged
first used 1500s





	

"...yet another harebrained, asinine..."

Lestrade had been yelling at them, him, more so than John, for at least a half an hour, Sherlock had stopped listening a minute into the lecture and was watching John's fingers as they trembled in his lap. Maybe this time he had gone too far.

"I need to get John home," he heard himself say, in a voice that he thought could be considered a bit sheepish, not his normal brash, arrogant drawl. Lestrade stopped, perhaps more because he was losing his voice, than due to the interruption. Regardless of the reason, he looked at John and sighed.

"Take care of him, hmm? I'll need -"

"I'll be in tomorrow, uhm, later today, afternoon sometime."

Lestrade nodded. "Just go before I change my mind...I need coffee...or a new job..." he mumbled as he walked out of his office, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Sherlock stood and walked the two steps to John's chair, then sat on the floor in front of him.

"I -"

"Don't."

"...was wrong."

"You were -"

"...wrong."

John looked down at his hands. "Don't you know what it does to me? Every time - or maybe you just don't care...I don't honestly -"

Sherlock sat back on his heels, momentarily stunned. "You think I don't care," he whispered, then was silent for a minute or two. "To be honest, before I met you, I didn't know what it meant - to care about anyone, I didn't even know how to care about myself, really. Sometimes, I forget that it's not just me anymore. There are days when I wonder..."

"What?" John slid out of his chair and sat carefully in front of his friend.

"You could have anyone, and yet, you stay. Why, John? I'm not a nice bloke, I'm actually nearly impossible..."

"You really...Sherlock. Look at me." John scooted closer, pushed his hand into the dusty, muddy curls and kissed Sherlock gently. "I adore you. If I had to explain it, not sure I could, not even to myself. You surprise me, on a daily basis, I love how your nose crinkles when you are unsure of something...just like that...and you seem to have some feeling for me, you understand something about me that no one ever has before...not sure what it is exact-"

Sherlock kissed him back hard, then sat back again and blinked. "You, uhm, hmm. Can we just go home, please, John?"

"Yeah, sure, but you are going to have to help me up first, don't think I can move."


End file.
